


Ooh, Prezzies!

by therealfroggy



Category: Chuck (TV)
Genre: Courtship, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:33:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24425833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therealfroggy/pseuds/therealfroggy
Summary: Casey keeps handing Chuck disturbing items and it's getting creepy. In fact, Chuck is starting to worry that Casey is trying to tell him something. But what?Inspired by kalena'sPresent Tense, which is amazing.
Relationships: Chuck Bartowski/John Casey
Comments: 4
Kudos: 68





	Ooh, Prezzies!

“Bartwoski!”

Chuck yelped and jumped (so not a spy) when Casey barked at him. The undercover greenshirt was staring at him with impatience, nodding towards the Home Theatre Room, and Chuck meekly followed. It was a slow morning at the Nerd Herd desk anyway. Once inside, he found Casey looking expectantly at him, holding out a box. It was a box declaring, by picture and label, that it had once been made to contain dumbbells.

Chuck stared at it, confused.

“What? Are we smuggling something out? Are we intercepting a target's communications with a cleverly concealed bug?” he asked, looking blankly at Casey.

Casey growled, but only a very little growl. “No, numbnuts, they're for you.”

He handed over the box. Chuck took it, curious, and opened the lid to see what was hidden inside.

It was dumbbells. Two four-pound dumbbells.

Chuck looked up at Case with a confused frown. “Uh... okay?”

Casey's lip twitched a little, but he just shrugged and left the Home Theatre Room.

Chuck, still frowning, looked very carefully at the little free weights, the box, even the safety disclaimer sheet inside. Nothing. No flash, no secret button, no device that he could detect. Not even a coded message, except the Chinese warranty paper. These were, apparently, just regular exercise equipment.

Why would Casey bring him dumbbells?

_Probably thinks I'm not buff enough. Thinks I should toughen up._

As if he wasn't already very much aware of how scrawny he was, and how a guy like Casey would see that as a weakness. A liability, even.

_Yeah, well, some day we'll be stuck in a cell with ridiculously wide bars, and then we'll see who can sneak his way out and save the day. Casey's_ fingers _couldn't get through the bars, he's so big._

Realizing he was pondering Casey's general size with far too much interest, Chuck firmly shook himself of the mood and went back to work.

***

“Bartowski!”

Chuck hadn't quite mastered the impulse to twitch all over every time Casey called him, but he had at least stopped yelping. He raised his head, looking around for his handler.

“Yeah, right here. What?”

Casey loomed over him at the Nerd Herd desk. Chuck was tempted to stand up to even out the height difference, but remained seated so Casey wouldn't know how intimidating Chuck really found him.

“Here,” Casey said, handing him a brown-papered package. “Don't open it here. And don't show it to the morons.”

Then Casey left.

Chuck was confused. This was obviously spy stuff; the package was heavy and anonymous in his hands. Why would Casey bring him spy stuff at the Buy More? Why not call him down into Castle, or wait until he got home? It was obviously not urgent, because Casey didn't even mention going somewhere.

Chuck shook the package carefully. It didn't rattle. It was fairly slender, square, and barely fit in his bag, which Chuck kept stashed under the Nerd Herd desk in case of emergency yoghurt time. He decided the package could wait until he got home.

When he finally did get home, Chuck went to his room, put some music on to muffle any suspicious noises, and sat on his bed to open the package. Inside the brown paper was a sleek, gleaming box of highly polished wood with gold-embossed letters on the lid. _Smith & Wesson, co._ Holding his breath, Chuck opened the box.

_Please don't be a gun, please don't be a gun, please please please don't be a gun..._

It wasn't a gun. It was two guns. Black, solid, terrifying guns stared back at him as he took them in. Two of them. Handguns.

Chuck closed the lid, trying not to breathe quite so loudly. He put the guns down on his bed. He should hide them, but he couldn't think where.

_Is Casey threatening me?_

Chuck got to his feet. He needed to talk to Casey. But if he went over to Casey's, then the agent would be able to sneer at him and possibly punch him in the face if Chuck annoyed him. And Chuck knew how much Casey was annoyed when the asset didn't immediately understand and accept his instructions.

_Maybe I'm supposed to use these. Oh, God, they want me to kill someone. I can't do it; I'm not ready, I'm not a real spy! I don't even_ want _to kill anyone!_

Deciding to err on the side of caution, Chuck put his earpiece in and looked up at the camera he knew was there.

“Casey? I know you can hear me, Casey. What the hell is up with the guns?”

There was a moment of static in his ear piece, then Chuck heard the gruff voice he was so accustomed to having in his ear.

_“You don't like them?”_

“No, obviously I don't like them, you know I hate guns,” Chuck said, looking at the camera in exasperation. “What I mean is, what do you expect me to do with them? Is this a hint? Are you telling me to kill myself before you have to?”

_“You're an idiot, Bartowski,”_ Casey snapped in his ear. _“Jeez, kid, not everyone is trying to kill you. Never mind, just leave 'em in Castle next time you're down.”_

“What? But, Casey, why did you bring me guns? Casey? John? Buddy?”

But only radio silence met his demands. Fuming quietly to himself, Chuck put the box under his bed and pushed it well away from him. He didn't like the thought of sleeping on those things, but where else could he put them until he could return them to sender?

***

“Bartowski!”

Chuck was getting used to the nuances of Casey's barks and grunts; he identified this one as the agent's own version of “HTR, now, please.” The ´please` was just something he added on in his own head, a vague attempt at making Casey a little easier to like. Because as much as Chuck liked his NSA handler, he couldn't even begin to fathom _why_ he liked him.

“Yeah, coming,” Chuck assured him. He got up to follow Casey to the Home Theatre Room, but found the greenshirt-camouflaged agent holding up a brown take-out bag.

“You on lunch break yet? I got sandwiches.”

Chuck gaped. He stared. He stood there, mouth open, and tried to process. It took some time. But just before Casey's neutral angry-face could turn into a real glare, the nerd pulled himself together and said, “Sure, yeah. Lunch. Great. Break room?”

Seated at one of the small, round tables, Casey pulled out a small box, placed it on the table and pushed it towards Chuck.

“Here.”

Chuck looked up at Casey, then back down at the box, and once more at Casey. He didn't touch the box. “Is it yoghurt time?”

Casey glared. “You and your damn yoghurt time! No, Bartowski, if it was, then we'd be at Orange Orange. Here. For you.” And he nudged the box again.

Chuck wiped the sandwich crumbs off his fingers, then picked up the little box. It was very light and made no sound. He opened the lid, curious and not a little scared.

Inside, on a bed of cotton, was a very long chain like the one Casey wore his dog tags on. Chuck pulled it out, and on the chain, distended and dangling like a hanged corpse, was a tiny little phial with a pill in it.

Chuck didn't need to ask what it was. He didn't even need to flash. He had seen movies.

“Casey,” he began, voice shaking a little. “First guns, and now this. Are you sure – absolutely sure – that you don't want me to kill myself? Because I, I, I have issues with that.”

Casey growled. Uh-oh. This one was pretty closely related to _I will tear your head off in the next five seconds_.

“Sometimes I don't know why I bother with you, Bartowski,” the agent said with yet another impatient growl.

“This is so not my fault!” Chuck protested. “You keep handing me weird stuff and expecting me to know what to do with it, I can't help it if I get confused!”

Casey's glare turned into a frown. In the Casey Facial Catalogue, this one was listed under ´Confused`. “You think I'm handing you weird stuff?”

“Uh, yeah,” Chuck said and rolled his eyes. “Guns? Dumbbells? A _cyanide pill_? Come on, buddy, I'd like to work with you here but I have no idea what my orders are.”

Casey's face smoothed out, as if he realised how much his scowl was hindering this conversation. “Oh.”

Then he got up and left. Leaving the pill.

“Thanks for lunch!” Chuck shouted after him, exasperated and confused. He needed to find himself a new person to like.

***

“Bartowski!”

Chuck frowned, puzzled, and turned around on his Nerd Herd chair to find Casey standing on the other side of the counter. That wasn't a bark. It wasn't even a growl. It was a normal ´Hey, I need to talk to you` sound. But in Casey's voice. What on earth was going on?

Then he noticed that Casey was holding Lester up by the scruff of the neck, like a misbehaving kitten, right there in front of the Nerd Herd desk.

“Here,” Casey said, and there was no glare on his face. He looked almost... excited.

“You're on call!” Lester whimpered, his toes barely scuffing the floor. “You're our permanent home install Herder! You'll handle all the external services from now on!”

His grey vest was bunched up in Casey's big, scary fist. Assistant manager or not, he was about to wet himself.

Casey shook him a little.

“And you're bringing John with you as help!”

With a baring of his teeth that could almost have been a grin, Casey looked at Chuck as he released Lester. Lester scampered for the safety of the breath room. Casey turned expectantly to Chuck. “When do we leave?”

Chuck stared at him. He wanted to make sense of this, but he just couldn't. Since when did Casey want them to leave the relatively controlled environment of the BuyMore for no good reason? And if leaving was the point, why not just go have yoghurt?

“Uhm.”

Casey's grin shrunk a little. His face fell. He looked almost... disappointed. “I thought home installs were a sweet deal.”

“They are,” Chuck said slowly, getting to his feet but keeping the desk between them. “Best part of the job. But you don't know anything about computers.”

Casey shrugged. “I could learn. I'm mainly there for security detail, anyway.”

Chuck stared. Then his none too unimpressive geek brain shifted into gear and he added a gape to his stare. “You're bringing me presents!”

Casey rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I see how you got into Stanford.”

Chuck frowned. He cocked his head to one side. “But why?”

Just then, Lester gave a timid croak to announce his reappearance. “You, ah, you've got a call. Details in the... in the note.”

He threw a bit of paper at Chuck and ran.

Chuck read the note. Old lady's old computer, address, the key under the flower pot. He looked back up at Casey. “Well... I guess we're going?”

“That was fast,” Casey commented, almost happily. He followed Chuck to his locker, they both got their jackets out and then they left in Nerd Herder number three.

“Uh, Casey,” Chuck said after a few minutes (and really, he was amazed at himself that he had lasted as long without talking), “is there a reason why you're bringing me increasingly creepy and insulting gifts?”

Casey turned to glare at him, but said nothing. After a few tense minutes, the agent turned back in his seat and they took a left turn. Chuck was almost choking on all the things he wanted to ask or say, but Casey was in a mercurial mood and Chuck did, contrary to popular belief, have some measure of self-preservation instincts. He bit his tongue until they arrived, then let them both into the little house with the key under the flower pot.

The whole house creamed ´little old lady residing`! There were china figurines and lace tablecloths and two fat cats who meowed plaintively at them as they entered the living room. Chuck located the computer – probably older than most of his teeth – and sat down.

“She probably uses it to email her grandkids,” Chuck said, mostly to fill the strained silence. He turned the computer on and did his thing.

Fifteen minutes later, Chuck turned the computer off and left a cheap USB stick next to it, along with a note written in his most legible handwriting.

“It's just plain too old,” Chuck told Casey, who had been standing there like a statue at parade rest all the while Chuck worked. “She can't install newer software, and the hardware probably can't take any more OS upgrades either. She should just -”

“Bartowski. Shut up.”

Chuck's brain tried to obey, but his mouth just overrode it. “What? Why? Are we -”

“Shut up so I can do this,” Casey growled, and grabbed Chuck by the tie, pulled him close, and slowly touched his lips to Chuck's.

Chuck's brain immediately powered down. He didn't think. He didn't question. He just felt, took in the sensations, knew he needed to roll with this. With the taste of John Casey. So he opened his mouth and pressed a little closer.

Casey sighed into the kiss, and then those impossibly big arms were wrapped tightly around Chuck's lean torso. Calloused hands, warm and sure, pressed into his spine, bringing them as close as possible. A strong tongue slid into Chuck's mouth, and he reciprocated lazily, felt the heat and wetness where their mouths met.

In that second, Casey wasn't scary or angry or even confusing. He was just warm, and solid, and exactly what Chuck needed. So Chuck slid his hands around Casey's neck and pressed into the heat.

“Bartowski,” Casey murmured, their lips still brushing together, “you wanna get horizontal?”

Chuck grinned into the kiss. “Yeah, let's get horizontal. Couch?”

“The cats are freaking me out,” Casey said unexpectedly. “Let's find a bedroom.”

There was a bedroom upstairs. It was tiny, and all the fabrics were floral print, but it had a bed. A tiny one. Casey grabbed Chuck and threw him down on it, then followed the younger man down and crawled right on top of him.

“I'm not gonna hurt you, Bartowski,” Casey rumbled, holding up on his elbows and looking down at the nerd underneath him. “No need to look as if judgement day is at hand.”

“Why are you calling me by my last name?” Chuck asked, feeling the solid weight of John Casey descending on him. It wasn't that he didn't want this, he just needed a moment to adjust. He had sort of liked Casey for a while, but there was quite a leap from ´sort of liking` to ´wanting sex`. And to be honest, he never even thought Casey had enough human in him to _feel_ things like this.

Casey frowned. “It's what I call people.”

Chuck knew that Casey was a military man, and it was true, he did call everyone by their last name. Still...

“Well, do you get horizontal with everyone?”

Casey grinned down at him. “No. But I don't wanna hear you call me John, got me?”

Chuck attempted a smile in return. Their bodies were burning against each other and he could feel a solid bulge getting ever more solid in Casey's pants. Wow. “Fine... Casey.”

Chuck slid his hands up into Casey's short hair. It was rough and a little itchy against his fingers, like Casey had just it cut. The agent easily followed the gentle tugs and lowered his head until they were kissing again. Tasting the slowly building heat in Casey's mouth, Chuck almost completely forgot why this should be freaking him out a little.

When their hips made contact, Chuck mewled a little into the kiss. It had been so long, so ridiculously long, since he had gotten even this far with anyone but his right hand. And Casey, his full weight now grinding down into Chuck, was just so solid, and male, and _hot_.

“Casey, why did you bring me presents?” Chuck murmured, feeling boneless and loose and high-strung all at once.

“It's called courtship, numbnuts,” Casey growled, clearly not happy about having Chuck's mouth removed from his own. “But you're not a girl and you're not an idiot, so I skipped the roses and chocolates.”

Chuck laughed, inexplicably happy at that discovery. “Only you, Casey, would pick out the things most likely to freak me out and try to court me with them.”

Casey suddenly stopped grinding and raised himself back up on his elbows. “What do you mean, freak you out? That why it took you so long to figure this out?”

Chuck rolled his eyes at Casey, and the change was refreshing. “Dumbbells because I'm not strong enough. Guns because I need to grow a pair large enough to kill people. Cyanide pill so I can kill myself before spilling secrets, we both know I can't stand torture. These things freak normal people out, Casey.”

Casey stared at him, and oh, crap, the angry face was quickly making a reappearance. The agent pushed off and sat back on his heels, still kneeling over Chuck's legs but not touching him anymore. Chuck felt his _interest_ begin to flag in synch with the fear spreading through him at Casey's angry face.

“But the sandwiches were really nice!” he said quickly, leaning up on his elbows so he wasn't lying quite so prone. “And Lester! Lester was a really thoughtful present! Er...”

“Dumbbells because you need to work out the computer tension from your arms,” Casey said quietly, his soft voice sounding deadlier than any yelling. “Guns because I want to to train you myself, and because guns really get me going. Cyanide pill because it's mandatory for all CIA agents, and I believe you'll be one some day. It's on my old tag chain, so you can wear something of mine without looking like a high school girl with a promise ring.”

The silence that followed was broken by a strangled sound of surprise from Chuck. The nerd cleared his throat. “And Lester?”

“So we could hang out without surveillance, even if it was just a little while,” Casey said, turning his face away, and Chuck saw – to his infinite surprise and endearment – that Casey was blushing a little.

Chuck grabbed Casey's shoulder so he could hoist himself up.

“I'm an idiot,” Chuck said easily, his pride absolutely no match for the sight of Casey's reddening cheeks. “I should have asked. But hey, now that I know the reasoning behind them, I am completely won over by your gifts.”

Casey turned a furious scowl on him. “Joke about this and I break your spine, Bartowski!”

Chuck pulled on Casey's shoulders insistently, trying to reach his handler's snarling lips with his own. “I'm not, I'm not! I mean it; you can consider me successfully courted. I'll even let you show me how to fire the guns. Now will you just let me give _you_ a present?”

Casey, after scrutinising him for a moment, finally relented and moved in to kiss Chuck again. Then he broke off and grinned. “So where is this present, Bartowski? In your pants?”

Chuck fell laughing back to the bed. “Funny you should mention that...”

“There are limits to what we can do right here,” Casey said, his voice going dark, “and I wanna do so many things to you, Bartowski.”

Chuck drew in a shuddering breath. “Oh. Yeah. Yeah, that sounds good.”

“Come over to my place tonight after work,” Casey told him, still in that smooth, dark voice. “And we'll figure something out. For now, I think we just need something to take the edge off.”

“What, like a drink?” Chuck asked stupidly.

“I guess you could call it that...”

Casey backed away, shuffling down along Chuck's lean body, until his face was about even with Chuck's groin. _Oh._ As Casey began opening his jeans, Chuck could barely breathe. He had this weird notion that if he made too much noise, Casey would disappear and this would turn out to be some insanely hot dream.

“Breathe, kid,” Casey chuckled, reaching into Chuck's boxers to pull his cock out. “This won't be nearly as much fun if you black out.”

Chuck drew deep, measured breaths as Casey began stroking him. But when Casey put his _mouth_ on the head of his dick and _licked_ , he couldn't measure or control anything. Bucking up into the head there, Chuck groaned deep and long in the back of his throat, writhing on the sheets.

“Casey, fuck, that's awesome,” he panted, putting a hand in Casey's hair to stroke there. He didn't push or tug, just ran his fingers through the short hair. “So awesome!”

Casey pulled his mouth off the younger man, looking up at him with lust-darkened eyes. “You never had a blowjob before?”

“I have,” Chuck managed, “but never one this good.”

Casey's brow furrowed slightly. “But I've barely started.”

Chuck blushed. He just knew he was flaming red. “Yeah, well, I never got this from someone who didn't make faces at the taste.”

Casey stared for a moment, then began laughing. Proper, full-belly laughs, like a normal human. Still laughing, he crawled back up to kiss his asset, licking into his mouth and laughing into the kiss.

“Sometimes I think you're still a high school kid, Bartowski.”

Chuck grimaced. “Eeew, perv!”

“Not like that,” Casey rumbled, then laid down next to Chuck and began stroking him slowly. Chuck sighed his approval. “You're a grown man, you're just so... unspoiled.”

The possessive tone in Casey's voice as he uttered that word made Chuck shudder. That strong grip, combined with that rough voice, was a lot to process all at once.

“You can spoil me,” Chuck breathed, rocking his hips up into the other man's grip. “If you want.”

Casey groaned, buried his face in Chuck's neck, and tightened his grip almost unbearably. Chuck cried out, the sudden pressure proving too much for him as he came helplessly in Casey's hand. The slick friction drew out his pleasure, stretching his climax until he had to push Casey's hand off to stop it all.

“Christ,” Casey muttered, then pushed up on one elbow so he could glare down at the younger man. “See what you do to me, Bartowski? You made me come in my pants like a teenager.”

And he grabbed Chuck's hand, Casey's own still full of come, and put the nimble computer fingers right over his own crotch – over a damp spot. A sticky, damp spot.

Chuck let his hand linger there, rubbing gently, allowing himself to feel the full implications of the situation. Casey came in his pants jerking Chuck off. And, yeah, that particular trouser snake might be on the retreat, but even now Chuck could feel the heft and thickness of it. _Oh._

“Do we _have_ to go back to work?” Chuck wheedled, his voice rough from all the panting. “I want to go back to your place right the heck now.”

Casey chuckled, but got up and left the room, leaving Chuck to fend for himself in the process. The younger man scrambled to find something to wipe himself down with, but before he could really move much, Casey was back with toilet paper.

“We've already taken way too long for a simple home install,” Casey said as he dealt with the mess in his usual brisk way. “But I can promise you, Bartowski, I'll be hauling your ass back to mine the _second_ we clock out.”

***

“Bartowski!”

Chuck grinned as he turned around to find Casey standing by the Nerd Herd desk. The agent's voice had that soft edge to it that meant Chuck would be finding himself naked and covered in Casey in a very short while.

“We got a home install,” Casey said, his grin leaning a little towards the crazy side. “And not the yoghurt kind.”

Chuck got up and nodded towards the break room. “Get my stuff?”

Casey grabbed him by the arm and dragged him towards the exit. “I got everything we need.”

They drove out in Nerd Herder number three, and Chuck – even after three weeks – got horny just thinking about the first time he had gone on a home install that turned into sexy times with Casey. He turned to grin at his handler, and wondered if he could get away with sneaking into Casey's place more often.

“So where are we going?” Chuck asked, getting comfortable in his seat.

“You may notice, Bartowski, that I waited until four in the afternoon before calling you away on a home install,” Casey growled smugly. “We could arguably take long enough that we won't have to go back in today.”

Chuck's grin widened. “Back to your place, then?”

“Actually, no.”

Casey let the Nerd Herder slow down and made a right turn into a large parking lot – outside a motel. Chuck turned to the agent with raised eyebrows. “A motel? What, your bed not good enough anymore?”

“I placed an honest to God call to the Nerd Herd desk,” Casey said as he parked outside one of the doors. “And I rented this room under the same name I used to request an off-site assist. So for the next few hours, the CIA thinks we're at work and the BuyMore thinks we've gone home. That's why, when I make you scream like a girl, nobody will know and nobody can possibly interfere.”

Chuck's mouth went dry as he followed Casey out of the car. “I don't scream like a girl. Well, yeah, I do, but only on missions.”

Casey gave a sceptical snort. “Everyone screams when I fuck them.” He opened the gritty door and led the way inside, leaving Chuck to deal with his racing heartbeat and sudden shortness of breath.

“You... you're going to fuck me, then,” Chuck clarified, following Casey inside before closing the door behind them.

Casey threw his keys, jacket and bag on a chair, then turned to face Chuck fully and grinned at him. “I'm gonna make you _beg_ me to fuck you. And then I'm gonna give you everything you want.”

Chuck could feel his hands shaking a little. “Oh, okay. Yeah. 'Cause, y'know, I was beginning to wonder when we would get to that, only I really like what we've been doing so far, and I didn't want to make it seem like I don't, but at the same time I'm not sure I can do this without freaking out, and then -”

“Bartowski.”

Chuck somehow managed to stop himself and shut up. He looked at Casey. “Yeah.”

Casey stepped close to him, then put his huge, sturdy hands on the younger man's shoulders. “You need to stop freaking out and start to trust me, you hear? My job is to protect the Intersect. My hobby is to protect _you_. Am I gonna hurt you?”

Chuck shook his head, smiling sheepishly. “I know, I know, and it's not like sex scares me or anything, I love sex. It's just weird, sometimes, to think of you as human and not some super soldier scary robot.”

But the heat coming off Casey like a furnace was very, very human. Nowhere near robotic. The agent seemed to be aware of this, too, and backed Chuck up against the door, pressing their bodies together from thigh to chest. Chuck pressed right back.

“We good?” Casey murmured, nosing along Chuck's neck and jaw.

“Mm,” Chuck confirmed, tipping his head back to let the older man have more skin to nibble at. “Good. And also, this is probably going to be the best present yet.”

Casey growled agreeably and bit hard at Chuck's neck, making the nerd squirm in his grip. Chuck decided to reciprocate and licked right behind Casey's ear. Casey sucked in a harsh breath, pushing his hips against Chuck's in a stuttering rhythm.

“Get naked,” Casey ordered, “get on the bed, and get it hard for me. I want your dick in my mouth when I prep you.”

Chuck groaned against those strong, sneering lips. He pulled his clothes off as fast as he could humanly move, then crawled onto the bed and laid down in the middle of it. He watched Casey's muscle bunch and shift as the older man removed his own clothes, then began placing stuff on the bedside table.

Chuck was hard before he even put a hand on himself.

“On your back,” Casey growled as he joined Chuck on the bed. “Spread 'em.”

Chuck made a sound he hadn't known he could make, one right at the back of his throat. “Gngngh. Uh. I mean -”

“Still talking, huh?” Casey asked, but his voice was coaxing and he was grinning. “I'm clearly not distracting you enough.”

“So naked,” Chuck commented wisely.

Casey lowered his head and licked once across his palm, then began jacking Chuck slowly while licking over the head. “Mm. Real naked, Bartowski.”

Chuck still hadn't gotten used to this. The intense heat, the open relish with which he sucked it, the saliva that slicked everything as the agent sucked his cock... it made his head rush worse than the Intersect. Those big, broad hands on him had Chuck gasping every time they so much as fooled around. He had never known that he was bi, but Casey made him want to bend over and offer himself up to be fucked.

“Casey,” he moaned, hands going to the other man's hair again. “Casey, please, want it!”

“And you're gonna get it,” Casey murmured, raising his head. “Hand me the lube.”

Chuck did as he was told, and a knot of nerves began warring with the lust in the pit of his stomach. “Is it going to hurt?”

“No,” Casey said firmly. “Chuck, I need you to tell me to stop. The moment it hurts I stop. Okay? I want to make you beg for more, not mercy.”

Chuck grinned widely. “Admit it, Casey, I make you all warm and gooey inside. You love me.”

“Damn straight,” Casey said, avoiding Chuck's eyes, and bent back to his task.

Chuck was dumbstruck.

“I'm gonna start stretching you,” Casey said, and even the words made Chuck's body twitch with interest. “You let me know when to stop, you hear?”

“Sure, yeah,” Chuck said, still dazed from the revelation of Casey's actual human feelings.

Then there was a finger in his ass and Chuck's eyes widened. That was new. That was, in fact, entirely alien to him. But it was slick and attached to Casey, which the nerd deeply appreciated, so it wasn't unwelcome. Just... new.

“Oh, okay,” he breathed, mostly to himself. “Yeah. Yeah, that... works.”

Casey sucked his dick again and Chuck groaned. Casey put another finger in his ass and Chuck felt his balls draw up tight. Chuck panicked and began squirming to get away.

“What?” Casey asked, immediately stilling his hand and pulling his mouth off Chuck's dick. “Chuck, what?”

“Too close,” Chuck gasped, thinking desperately of unsexy things to stop himself going off. “Gonna... too soon!”

Casey stared up at him. “You've gotta be kidding me.”

“Nooo,” Chuck managed, still squirming. “Not... kidding!”

Casey slowly pulled his fingers out and backed up a little. “Should I make you come first? Take the edge off?”

“I like it when you take the edge off,” Chuck managed, “but I think I'd rather just get to it.”

“As in...” Casey hesitated.

“Try, uh, try just going for it,” Chuck said, feeling his cheeks flame again. “I mean... I think we should get to the f-fucking part.”

“I need to make sure you won't tear anything, Chuck,” Casey said, but his eyes were dark and he was looking Chuck over like he was a meal. “Not gonna rush this and hurt you.”

“But, uh, just try?” Chuck pressed. “I can cry uncle, no worries.”

Casey, still looking a little hesitant, reached for the condoms on the bedside table. He rolled one on himself and then added more lube. “If you're sure.”

“Hey, uh, I think I should maybe... have my back to you?” Chuck suggested, licking his lips. “I think I read that. On the internet.”

Casey rolled his eyes. “Of course you did.”

“No, but, see, I want to be the little spoon, and the website said it'll be easier that way,” the nerd explained. He rolled over on his side and bent his top leg up, making room for Casey to lean over him and get ridiculously close. “See? Go ahead, try now.”

Casey pressed close and Chuck could feel the other man's warmth all along his side. He arched his neck back and turned his head, and Casey was there, kissing him. Chuck melted into the mattress, then he felt pressure and Casey and a slow, burning fullness.

“Holy colonel, Batman,” Chuck moaned, pressing his face into the duvet. “Wow.”

“Chuck, talk to me,” Casey insisted, and wow, that was the first time ever he had actually wanted Chuck to talk. “Are you okay? Does it hurt?”

“Mmmno,” Chuck sighed, his entire body boneless under the weight of Casey's arm around his middle and Casey's dick in his ass. “'m fine. Doesn't hurt. Wow.”

A deep, dark chuckle reverberated through his entire body. “Guess this is where my seduction school skills come in.”

“Yeah,” Chuck agreed readily. “Yeah, Casey, skills. Really. Like I said, wow. Come on, get... get moving, would you?”

Casey thrust and Chuck wailed with pleasure. Casey reached around and grasped Chuck's dick and the younger man made gargling, non-verbal sounds deep in his throat. He lost the ability to form words. He lost the ability to think. All he could do was try to grind back against Casey because, holy God, this was so good, how had nothing felt this good before, ever, in his life?

Obviously nothing in Chuck's life had been truly good before this. Obviously the feeling of John Casey's dick in his ass was proof that he had not truly lived until that moment.

“Caaaaaaaseeeeeey,” Chuck managed, lips mashed against the pillow.

“Yeah,” Casey breathed into his ear. “Yeah, Chuck, right here. You good?”

“Mmm,” Chuck confirmed. “Nghrg.”

Casey chuckled, then bit down gently on Chuck's shoulder and the nerd just. lost. it.

“Fuck!” he yelled, arching, straining into the big, calloused hand on him, coming harder than he ever had. Shockwaves of pulsing heat went through him, electric and like soaking in a hot bath all at once. Chuck gasped for breath and shuddered in the strong arms curled around him.

“Atta boy,” Casey grunted in his ear, then released Chuck's dick and grabbed hold of his bent leg instead. “You okay? Can I...”

“I can't even,” Chuck moaned. “Fuck, fuck, fuck...”

“You need me to stop?” Casey asked, sounding extremely disappointed but also entirely honest about being willing to stop.

“Don't even think about it,” Chuck breathed, then pushed back a little. “Come on, Casey, finish it.”

It took Major John Casey .3 seconds after that to get moving. He thrust, hard, and used his hand on Chuck's leg to increase his leverage. Chuck started moaning again on the second thrust. Casey's movement became erratic and intense less than two minutes later.

“Chuck,” the older man gasped, lips dragging against the nape of Chuck's neck. “Chuck, I'm... I -”

Chuck's whole body tightened up at the sound of Casey's wrecked gasps, and that was it, Casey gave a roar as he came, body shuddering against Chuck's and hands digging into skin hard enough to bruise. Chuck could feel the other man's pounding heart through their bodies.

“Wow,” Chuck murmured, feeling the little shivers in Casey's hands as those hands tightened on Chuck's body. “Wow, Casey, you really are good at this.”

Casey laughed. The deep, reverberating chuckling laughter billowed up from the agent's stomach and filled the whole bed. Chuck grinned into the sheets beneath his face.

“Yeah, Bartowski, I'm kinda good at this. You're not so bad yourself.”

“So this means you'll keep fucking me from now, right?” Chuck asked, revelling in the feeling of hot, sweaty skin all along his back and side. “I mean, I like the other stuff too, but this was extra fun. Wasn't this extra fun? I'd like there to be more fucking in future.”

Casey fumbled between them for a moment, and then the giant dick in his ass was sliding out and Chuck kind of felt a little bereft.

“Clench up,” Casey muttered in his ear, and Chuck's eyes rolled back of their own accord again. “It'll help.”

Chuck did as he was told while Casey dealt with the condom, and then Casey came back with a warm, moist washcloth. He began wiping Chuck down and the younger man melted into the touch.

“Wow, look at you being all serviceable and stuff,” Chuck blurted out.

Casey grinned. “Like I said, taking care of you is my hobby. So. You liked the actual fucking part of gay sex, then.”

“I don't even know if I'm gay, it's just you,” Chuck said without thinking. Then, at the look on Casey's face, he tried back-pedalling. “I mean, I don't mind it on principle or anything. It's just, you know, I never met a man I wanted to have sex with before, and you're kinda my hero and stuff, and then -”

Casey put a hand on his shoulder and Chuck shut up. “Chuck. Do you like having sex with me? Don't mind the gay part. Just me.”

“Do I like it? The bedclothes are full of me liking it, Casey, I think we can safely say I like it,” Chuck grinned.

“Good. Now please, for God's sake, shut up. I'm trying to enjoy the moment,” Casey grumbled, and laid down so close they might just never be able to unstick again.

“Hey, Casey?”

“Yeah, Bartowski?”

“I'm so glad you decided to start giving me creepy shit.”

“Yeah. Me, too. Now shut up and sleep.”

And Chuck did, curled into Casey who was giving off heat like a big furnace.

Best present ever.


End file.
